It must have been at least a year since our last tower! And not to mention that sinful but heavenly Billy Bombers milkshake that cost me at least three yoga sessions to burn off. I love to laugh at your not-so-romantic encounters, and your recollections are always most entertaining. Sometimes in retrospect, I always wonder if they are purely hyperbolic and over-dramatised, but then again, I am reminded of the film Big Fish (not sure if you caught that before!) and I think that maybe life only comes alive when we rewrite it in fiction.
Anyhows, I couldn't have been more happy to hear about the good news when we last met. I always feel very privileged for being one of the first you share your joy with. I always tease you about it, but I truly think you are brilliant. Nothing ever seems too hard for you! And I respect you for being a humble and down-to-earth person, always willing to share and teach. And your tolerance level is just.. amazing.
You are such a great brother to me, even better than my own. Thank you for always looking out for me during our school days. You know, I never officially thanked you for helping to pull me out of the dumps once upon a december.. But I'm truly grateful for your presence, and CM. The bad news is.. I'm thinking maybe I might need your help again soon! Haha!
Hope the next time I hear from you is... a big red invitation card yeah? ;)
--
Dear B,
I have a feeling that you're probably not too pleased with me because I haven't really been around! I'm really sorry and I wish I can spend more time with you, just like the good old days. I wonder how life has been treating you, where you are posted at now, how your dad has been, what the latest happenings in your life are..
We always talk about going on a holiday together but never get down to it! Perhaps we have all given up the idea, as it is even more impossible now that all of us are already in the workforce. So I guess we shall all stick to brunches and teas, or maybe dinner and movies at your place (speaking of which we haven't had one in ages!)
You know, when we are young, time is like falling rain, nourishing the trees and greenery, allowing them to blossom through the passing seasons. Somehow when we grow up, time resembles more of a gushing river, eroding parts of the banks, uprooting the plants on the periphery and washing them away as sediments.
My dear, I hope not much has been washed away yet. I hope twelve years of growth would have taken adequate root that it cannot be washed away. And I hope that as you once wrote, it shall always be a new beginning, never an ending.
--
Dear C,
I think it has been very courageous of you to have taken up the challenge of the project. I had promised to be there to help you, but somehow along the way I became so caught up with work that I am not so sure if I had fulfilled my word. =x But I just want to shout out to you, that I'm really proud of you! I admire your perseverance and fortitude, and what I really need to learn from you, is your perennial, unfading optimism and positivity. I do hope this was a breakthrough for you, and may this be the beginning of many more new challenges.
You know ever since the end, I have been thinking much of the kids. While I was encouraged by what some of them shared during my session, I was also disheartened by what I heard from a handful. After the camp, L was telling me that although what they did was a painful part, it was necessary. Despite my proclaimed faith, I am ashamed to admit that I find it hard to grapple with the necessity of pain at times.
This aside, I don't think I can find a more faithful friend and colleague than you. You have been a huge source of encouragement and a pillar of support when work becomes so frustrating. And I know that you are always praying for me. Thank you for always praying for me. I am so blessed with the presence of you and Q.
Please continue to shine and bring smiles to people around you.
--
I shall assume that you, my dear reader may wonder the intention of these letters. Maybe you may find it juvenile. Or self-indulgent. But it's just a form of self-expression, apart from defaulting to semi-fiction and half-confessions. For the past two months, I have been trying very hard to pick up the pen, but I always get into a knot, or find myself unable to tie up the end of the story.
I used to unload my baggage during my solo getaways, whether it was at the plateau on top of Mount Hallasan in the biting cold, or on the banks of Hoan Kiem lake on a quiet dawn, or the dusty streets of Mandalay at that chapatti stall. But since I haven't been away on my own in a while, I think I have accumulated too much dirty laundry. I need to wash it somewhere, but my legs have been chained by my own will.
So I'm stuck here, scribbling letters that shall never be mailed, that may never reach the eyes of the intended recipients, and that will always remain under my pillow. For now, let's keep the half- truths in the laundry basket, and hang the other half out in the sun.
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